


Untethered

by alex_caligari



Series: All of Me, All of You [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, BAMF Sub, Flashbacks, Frank discussions/thoughts about sex and sexuality, Group Kink, M/M, Non-Sexual Kink, Positive portrayal of kink, Violet Wand, soft dom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21929218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_caligari/pseuds/alex_caligari
Summary: Shiro was gone. Not dead, no one ever said dead, but he was missing, and it rattled everyone.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Matt Holt/Shiro
Series: All of Me, All of You [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1086414
Comments: 26
Kudos: 104





	1. Chapter 1

The castleship was quiet, and Pidge sought to ignore it any way she could. She sat in her room with her computer, running a security scan while making updates for it at the same time.

That last battle with Zarkon had been like nothing they'd seen before. They were battered and broken, and Shiro was, was—

Pidge stabbed another line of code into the program. She couldn't think about that now.

A soft knock at the door grabbed her attention. "Come in," she said.

Lance shuffled through and fell into the chaos that was her bed. "Thanks, Pidge," he murmured into the blanket.

She cast a critical eye over him. "You look terrible."

"Keith isn't sleeping, which means I'm not sleeping." He rolled over to peer at her. "Thanks for letting me crash here."

Pidge leaned against the side of the bed. She had made a nest on the floor from extra blankets and an enormous pillow. "You're welcome here anytime, obviously, but why me and not Hunk?"

Lance paused. "Because you won't tell me I need to fix Keith." Lance sighed. "There's nothing I can do to fix this."

"None of us can _fix_ this," Pidge said quietly. "It just is."

"Yeah." Lance sounded more broken than Pidge had ever heard. "I guess it is."

&&&

Shiro was gone. Not _dead_ , no one ever said dead, but he was missing, and it rattled everyone.

People worried about Keith. Keith grieved openly, loudly, and with violence; not with tears or outbursts, but with self-destruction. He spent long hours on the training deck with the gladiator on the highest setting, he refused food or sleep, and he pushed the limits of how far the Red Lion could travel every night.

People worried about Allura. Shiro had become her closest advisor after Coran, providing a bridge between the paladins and Allura's knowledge of the universe. She was the closest to another warrior Shiro had, and they had often talked long into the night about moving between being a soldier and a civilian.

People worried about Lance. Shiro had been his hero and the reason he joined the Garrison. Shiro encouraged Lance as a leader and reassured him as a Dom. Now, Lance's insecurities were returning as his hands shook when he stared at Keith's collar.

People worried about Hunk. Shiro had been the rock on which Hunk could crash his worries and would pause to listen to him when everyone else got lost. Hunk was the one who most turned to Shiro's console on the bridge as though he would still be there.

No one worried about Pidge.

Pidge preferred it that way. Her grieving was silent and deep and, to those who didn't know her, cold. Everyone knew Shiro had been like family to Keith, but seemed to forget that to Pidge, he _was_ family. He was Matt's bonded, his Dom. Shiro had become another older brother to her.

He had also been the only guarantee that Matt was alive. As long as Shiro could still feel him out in the universe somewhere, Pidge kept looking. Now, she had lost two brothers.

She didn't talk to the others about it. The only one who knew Shiro before Voltron was Keith, and his loss made him icy and frantic, like a glacier falling apart.

Instead, she remembered the day Matt found Shiro. Her sub brother never seemed too interested in seeking out his Dom at a time when all his school mates went off travelling. "It'll happen when it happens," Matt would say with a shrug. He was busy looking for an astrophysics research program to apply to and had a wealth of offers from the world over: Switzerland, New Zealand, Hawaii. He finally settled on the Galaxy Garrison. When Pidge asked why, his eyes went distant and he said, "I'm not sure. There's just a pull. I need to be there. Plus," he added with a laugh, "I can work with Dad and get all the benefits of nepotism."

Three weeks after he started, he didn't come home at his usual time. Their mother was pacing in the front room, torn between worrying for her eldest and trying to accept the fact that Matt was an adult who didn't have a curfew. Then he burst through the door shouting, "I found him! I knew it, I found him!"

It took half an hour and a mug of green tea for Matt to calm down enough to explain. "My Dom. He's there at the Garrison. I knew there was a reason I wanted to stay." He turned to Colleen. "Mum, he's perfect. He's got these arms and this jaw, and he gets flustered by baby animals. I have no idea what to do with him."

Colleen smiled and said, "You invite him for dinner, dear."

Pidge's first sight of Takashi—"Please, call me Shiro. Takashi makes me feel like I'm being called by my mother."—was as she peered from the shadows on the stairs. He looked like he stepped right out of the soft bonded romances she hid under her bed. Tall, handsome, and friendly with her father and respectful of her mother.

When they sat down for dinner, they were arranged with Colleen at the head, Sam to her left, and Shiro at her right. It was a show of respect for a Dom to be placed as equal to another Domme's sub. It also meant that to look at Matt sitting beside him, Shiro would have to turn away from Colleen, another show of trust that dated back to ancient, more brutal times. Colleen wasn't a traditionalist by any means, but she knew how to wield manners with intimidating efficiency.

Across from them, Pidge watched her brother and his bonded throughout dinner. Matt was right; Shiro flushed whenever Matt so much as batted his lashes. It made him more human somehow. And it balanced out the absolutely love-struck looks he was giving Matt, as if someone had handed him a beautiful and elusive tiger. Pidge decided she approved of him before dessert.

Then she brought out the big guns.

"So, Shiro," she said with all the gravity of a thirteen-year-old. "What are your intentions with my brother?"

Her mother choked on her wine while Matt glared daggers at her. Her dad laughed.

"Oh, well, I—" Shiro glanced around the table looking for rescue. When none came, he said, "I want to make him happy. I want to challenge and focus him, and I hope he does the same to me. I want to be there for all the incredible things he's going to do, and I want to follow him into the future." He couldn't look away from Matt, who was practically melting. "I want him to be the moon to my tides."

Pidge pretended to gag. "Gross. But you forgot the most important thing." At Shiro's raised eyebrow, she added with a grin, "You want to tie him up and spank him."

Matt shrieked and threw a dinner roll at her.

"Language, Katie," Colleen said.

Shiro just turned to Matt and said, "I like her."

&&&

Shiro was dreaming.

He must be dreaming. He had no control over where his mind went and could only observe the scenes as they flashed by. Fighting Zarkon, falling through wormholes, fighting as a prisoner. All the memories he wished he could bury once more.

He dreamt of the last time he saw Matt before they were separated in the arena. Matt had been panicked and lost, nothing like the bright man Shiro had met on Earth. The bond still shone as cold and distant as a star, but Shiro felt like he had wandered into Plato's cave and only knew the bond existed from the shadows on the wall. He reached out and followed that thread into better memories.

He dreamt of the day he had found Matt.

Sam Holt was showing Matt around the facility, and the plucky twenty-year-old sub had made some teasing remark on Shiro's military-straight posture. Shiro had taken a liking to him. Shiro often consulted with Sam on mission specs and often as not Matt was there, too. He was quick-witted and refused to be intimidated by Shiro's rank or status as a Dom. Occasionally, Shiro would catch Matt watching him. It made him wonder.

Those looks stayed with him as he practised tying knots at home. He couldn't help imagining the rope binding Matt's delicate wrists together. There was another etiquette demo coming up. Maybe Matt would be willing to be the demo sub. It would be a good test of their dynamic together.

He swept over the bond and got the barest of sparks back. Shiro didn't worry; his bond had always been quiet. But he was of the age that most people had found their bonded. His thoughts turned back to Matt, and he quickly found something else to do that didn't involve rope or knots or wild ideas.

Three weeks after their first meeting, Matt was dropping off some paperwork in Shiro's office. "Apparently, seven kids from your last recruitment drive actually enrolled," Matt said. "You're losing your touch."

"Sorry, _losing_ my touch?" Shiro said. "Seven is the most from one class I've had this year."

"Exactly." Matt perched on the corner of Shiro's desk, impetuous sub that he was. "You're not nearly scary enough anymore. We should be sending Iverson again and tell kids he had to give up his eye in an initiation ritual. That way, only the craziest kids sign up."

Shiro leaned back in his chair. Matt watched him as Shiro crossed his arms over his chest. "And why would we want more crazy in this place?"

Matt winked—bloody winked, and Shiro was well and truly done for—and said, "Crazy leads to the best innovation."

"I'm sure you have lots of innovations," Shiro said in a soft voice.

Matt laughed and looked down, his cheeks starting to turn pink. "Maybe."

Shiro leaned forward at the same time Matt turned back to him. The bond swelled like a heart filling with blood, and it was all Shiro could do to not pull Matt into his lap.

Matt froze. "Takashi," he breathed.

"You found me," Shiro said in return.

Matt blinked, then, with an expression of determination and apprehension, slid off the desk and knelt beside Shiro. He bent his head and exposed the back of his neck.

Shiro lowered one hand to Matt's head and felt his sub shiver. _His sub_. He was here at Shiro's feet. Brushing his hand through Matt's unruly hair and gripping his nape, he said, "You're perfect."

They stayed like that for at least an hour with Shiro gently petting Matt. It wasn't exactly protocol, but heads were turned when it came to bonds clarifying. Shiro at least pretended to do some work.

At the end of the day, Shiro said, "I don't know how you feel about it, but if you want to take things slow, we can—"

"Can we go back to your place?" Matt interrupted. "Do you have rope? I prefer nylon, but jute works fine as well. If you don't have any, I can grab some from home—"

Shiro returned the interruption by kissing him soundly. "Hell, yes."

&&&

The Black Lion only chose a worthy pilot. But Keith sure as hell didn't feel worthy right now as his team crashed through the gas cloud chasing after a ghost.

Keith pulled on the controls as he maneuvered the Black Lion's bulk around. He missed Red and her tenacity and determination. The Black Lion was like connecting to a mountain, or the dragon under it; he had hidden depths that Keith was hesitant to get lost in. Keith was feeling judged and coming up short.

He could hear the others calling, shouting, but he ignored them.

Until—

_"Keith, stop!"_

That did it. The deep Dom voice that Lance never used outside of scenes. Keith pulled to a halt immediately.

 _Shit, shit, shit_.

"Okay," he heard himself say. "It's okay, I'm fine, I'm—" He looked at the screens. The other lions weren't even in range. How far had he travelled without them? The only one still with him was Lance in Red. He swallowed. "Is everyone okay?"

No answer.

"It's the gas cloud," Lance said with no hint of the Dom in him. "It's messing with our systems."

Keith lowered his head to the controls. "Fuck. What's wrong with me?"

Movement caught his eye, and the Red Lion appeared in front of him to land on an outcropping of rock. "You're just getting your feet under you. You know, getting used to it."

"We don't have time for me to get used to it." The controls creaked under Keith's hands, and he forced himself to loosen his grip.

"Well, we don't have time for you to lose your head, either," Lance snapped. His sigh filled the comm. "I didn't mean that. No, okay, I kinda did, but I didn't want to say it like that." The Red Lion drifted closer, and Keith was thrown back to the night he first came to his Dom. Lance had approached him with the same caution and care.

 _Trust your Dom. Trust your second_.

"Sorry," Keith said. "I'm sorry."

"I know." The Red Lion hovered in front of Keith. "We'll regroup and see what we can do about Lotor's crazy new ship. Right now, I think we should head back to the castleship." A pause. "A leader knows when to retreat."

"A _good_ leader, you mean."

"Hey, you said it. I think this counts as a breakthrough, though." Red swivelled around and turned to look over her shoulder. "C'mon," Lance said, "let's collect our team."

Keith breathed out, loosening a knot in his chest. "Yeah, okay. And Lance?" He double-checked to make sure they were on a private channel. "Let's meet up after this. I need some...direction."

Lance chuckled darkly. "Sure thing. Anything for you, babe."

Keith shouldn't have doubted that Lance would make a good second. He had been nothing but supportive through this whole issue. He seemed to anticipate Keith's anxieties before Keith himself could untangle them. The others knew about most of Keith's issues with being the Black Paladin—replacing Shiro, doubts in his ability, not being ready to move on—but only Lance knew all of them.

Early one morning, after the Black Lion had chosen Keith, he had come into Lance's room in full rant mode. "I can't do it," he'd said. "I can't. I have no experience leading people, and the whole universe is depending on us, and I don't have the instincts about people that Shiro did—"

Rumpled and half-awake, Lance had listened from his bed. He didn't interrupt, only waited until Keith tired himself out.

"And—and I'm a sub!" Keith said. "Who's going to take orders from a sub?"

Keith had been pacing back and forth across Lance's room, but on his next turn, he ran right into a broad chest in blue pyjamas.

"Who's been saying that?" Lance said. The sleep was gone from his eyes. In fact, he looked ready to punch someone.

"No one," Keith said. "But—"

"But nothing." Lance gripped Keith's upper arms and pulled him in close. "No one thinks you can't do this because you're a sub. That's not how this works."

Lance's hold on him meant he couldn't escape. It was a habit he both appreciated and disliked. He wanted to turn away, to leave, to run, but Lance was always there to help him through the difficult parts. "Shiro was a Dom, and he was a great leader."

Lance tipped his head to the side. "True on both counts, but that doesn't mean there's a correlation." He gazed into Keith's face. "What is this really about?"

Keith swallowed. "I'm so different from Shiro, right to the basic level. How can I be anything like him?"

Squeezing Keith's arms, Lance said, "You can't. But you can be like you."

It was good advice, but it had taken until this disastrous mission for Keith to get what Lance had meant. He wanted to slap himself as he followed Lance to the others' last known location in the gas cloud. As he replayed the conversation, his stomach knotted up for a completely different reason.

Keith shuddered as he realized what he said. Shiro _was_ a great leader. Keith had given up on him.

&&&

Pidge stumbled through the ship's corridors. She and Coran had been going over the little data they had of Lotor's strange ship, and the Altean had sent her to bed after she yawned for the seventh time.

She knew that if she cut through the game room, it shaved seven minutes off her journey rather than going around. She opened the door and paused.

It was bound to happen. The ship was only so big, and each one of the paladins seemed to take up so much space.

Lance looked up from where he sat on the couch. He had his hand in Keith's hair, who was kneeling on the ground with his eyes closed. He was shirtless and shoeless, with only his collar and a pair of black leggings on. He didn't open his eyes, only twitched in Pidge's direction as she paused at the door. It was the softest she had ever seen him.

"Sorry," Pidge said. "I can leave if you need me to."

Lance glanced down at Keith, then said, "No, it's fine. We're just winding down."

Pidge entered and approached the couch. This wasn't a scene, but it wasn't quite casual, either. She knew that there were delicate rules for things like this, and if Lance or Keith wanted to be alone, she would leave, no hard feelings. But Lance seemed in control of things, and Keith stayed silent, so she sat down on Keith's other side. She was close enough to touch him, but didn't crowd him.

"How're you guys doing?" she asked in a soft tone. This was a space for soft things. "After...after today?"

Lance gave her a twisted smile. "It's a bit of getting used to. Him the fearless leader and me his right-hand man? Who would have thought?"

Pidge gave him a nudge. "Weren't you always?"

Lance gave her a grateful look and stroked Keith's head. Keith leaned into Lance's knee.

They all knew some re-balancing in their roles had to happen. It would have been the height of naivete to believe that they would all continue as usual, but the reality was even more jarring than they expected. It was one more thing Shiro's death had taken from them.

Lance cleared his throat. "Did you know he was worried I wouldn't take orders from a sub?" He sounded wistful. "He's stronger than he thinks he is."

"So are you, you know." She looked down at Keith and his even breathing. "We all have had to be."

"Good thing we have each other, then."

Pidge blinked. That wasn't quite true. They were a tight-knit bond-family, and that saved their sanity on more than one occasion, but only Lance and Keith were bonded and together. Her bonded was a trillion miles away on Earth. A Dom that she wasn't sure she would ever meet.

She looked back down at Keith. He was sitting on his heels and his bare toes wiggled occasionally. She was overcome with the urge to slide to the floor beside Keith and bow her head under Lance's hand. _She_ wanted to feel that security and control. _She_ wanted to have her hands cuffed so she wasn't itching to reach for her computer and solve another problem. She wanted a bit in her mouth to stop her from explaining how they were going to pull a near-impossible mission. She wanted that control taken from her and put in someone else's hands so that she no longer had to worry about what happened if it all went wrong. She had seen the marks and gentle looks that Lance gave Keith. He would be good.

Keith would help, too. Subs weren't always passive, and she doubted that Keith would be willing to sit back and watch. He would help make her comfortable and let her know what Lance was looking for. It was exactly how she imagined a scene.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she tore her eyes from Keith. She couldn't be here anymore. Keith and Lance couldn't help what they were and what they needed from each other, but she didn't want to be reminded of it at this moment.

"I'll leave you guys alone," she said as she stood.

"Don't be a stranger, Pidge," Lance said.

Pidge turned, but something grabbed her wrist. She looked down to see Keith watching her with hooded eyes. "Take care of yourself," he said and released her.

She nodded and escaped.

As she went down the hall, she recognized this feeling. Had seen it in Matt on Earth, when he would get tetchy and irritable and unfit for human consumption. Mum would toss him out with orders to have a date with Shiro, and the next morning, he'd be back refreshed and glorious. Pidge didn't feel it to that degree, but there was a...fizz.

Pidge knew what this was. Seeing Keith calm and pliant reminded her of how she could feel.

She had been to etiquette classes the same as the others and watched a few demonstrations. But when she lied her way into the Garrison, she was terrified of being found out. She still went to theory classes, but avoided any demos. She didn't want to be dragged into something where she might slip up. Wasn't sure she had that type of control.

The denial was hard, and she hated it. During nights when everyone was sneaking out, Pidge reached out to her Dom. Their connection was spotty, like a radio slightly off the right station, but she knew they were there. She poured her stress and fear and longing into the bond and got acceptance and love in return. Pidge held on to that through many a long night.

The castleship made things strange again. The Garrison was full of unbonded, but at least there was space to escape. Out here, she was forced into the space of other Doms and subs, ones she knew well, and had to deal with the pressure she still couldn't release. Keith and Lance's fighting their bond in the early days hadn't made anything easier.

After revealing her identity—after Shiro encouraged it—it felt better, this nameless pressure under her skin. It wasn't quite gone, though.

Within ten quintets, she had built herself a solution. Working on computers and machinery as she did, she came into contact with jolts often. She discovered that it helped settle her.

Now, after leaving Keith in his blissed-out subspace, Pidge sat barefoot in her room, steadily shooting electricity into her toes one by one.

It wasn't the best replacement for a violet wand, but it was the best she had. Left foot, starting with the pinky toe. Sometimes it was a light touch, sometimes she held it. Move across to the right foot, big toe. Back and forth she went until the fizz petered out.

Rarely, on long nights like this where the stress and loneliness wore her down, she thought of talking to Hunk. As the only other unbonded on the ship, she wondered how he dealt with the separation. Hunk threw all his energy into mechanics and cooking and family, and it seemed to work for him, but they were only human. They all needed that type of release.

Pidge shook her head. Everyone dealt with that in their own way. She didn't _really_ want to know Hunk's coping methods beyond his leather-working—no one could miss how he drooled over alien workmanship. She drummed her fingers on the floor and went back to her toes. Right foot, pinky toe. She took this time for herself and would get back to work tomorrow. She could last a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals. (No, really, I love you.)


	2. Chapter 2

Every time Shiro closed his eyes, he expected death, and would think, "This isn't so bad." Every step he made, from escaping the Galra ship to crashing on the ice field to drifting through space in a beat-up pod, had him questioning why he was fighting so hard. It would be far easier to stop. He had tried and fought as hard as he could; there was no shame in failure now. He wanted to rest.

But he didn't. He kept going. Something stronger than the bond with his sub pulled him onwards. Stronger than the bond with the Black Lion. It was an unknown, instinctual drive that he didn't examine too closely.

Drifting in a dead pod, Shiro stared at the stars. Not such a bad last vista to see. Peaceful. Infinite. All the lives carrying on without him and knowing that he did his best.

He put it down to hypoxia when the Black Lion appeared in the distance. Yet another out-of-body experience on the infinite plain. In some ways, that would have been easier.

He didn't remember much of the journey home or arriving on the castleship. A lot of voices and hands touching him and cutting him out of the rags he had lived in for weeks. More hands sealing him in the medical suit. He tried to breach the swirling mess his head was in, but got only flashes. The last thing he was cognizant of was orange hair and a kind voice saying, "Welcome back, son." Then the healing pod closed up and he fell into merciful blackness.

An unknown time later, he stumbled out to pale faces. For a moment, he was stuck in unreality. He'd had so many dreams and hallucinations about being back with his bond-family that he didn't want to believe it. But then Keith stepped forward, so slow and cautious, nothing like how he would have done before, that it broke through to Shiro. "Keith?" he managed.

"Yeah," Keith said with a rough voice, "we're here."

Shiro reached out and Keith met him halfway in a tight embrace. Shiro took a moment to bask in the feel of Keith's shoulders, the smell of his hair, the sound of his breath, before reaching out and grabbing the next nearest person. Lance let out an _oof_ of surprise, but melted into the hug. As did Hunk when Shiro held him. Same with Allura and Coran.

Pidge was last, hanging back and watching with shining eyes. "Come here, Katie," Shiro said, and that was all it took. She leapt into his arms and squeezed. Leaning close so only she could hear, he whispered, "He's alive, Katie. Matt's still out there."

"Thank you," she said, breath hitching. She leaned back, the stricken expression replaced with determination. "I'm going to find him. I'm going to get our family back together."

Shiro smiled. It was stiff, and he wasn't sure it was quite right yet, but it felt good. "I know you will."

He put her down and turned to the others hovering close by. He knew it would be a while before they felt secure enough to leave him alone. He didn't mind; he also needed the reassurance.

Allura stepped forward. "If you feel up to it, we could take a meal in the dining hall. I am sure there is much to catch up on, for both sides."

"Yeah," Lance said. "We went into an alternate reality and met an alternate Slav and you. That was fun."

Shiro blinked. Then shook his head and laughed. "Always something with you guys." He reached up and pulled at the long hair framing his face. "Give me some time to clean up, and I'll be back to hear all about it."

Before Shiro left, Keith squeezed his shoulder. "It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back."

&&&

Shiro basked in the heat of the shower, so glad to finally feel _warm_. Not many people could say they had memorable showers, especially after a harrowing, life-changing event. Shiro had several.

Like crashing back to Earth.

The memory surfaced under his skin, and Shiro had enough experience with flashbacks to ride them out. At least this one was more pleasant than most.

The crash and its immediate aftermath were still hazy, but the next morning was sharp and clear.

Aches and pains had lit up Shiro's skin, but he held himself still as he regained consciousness. He had learned early on in his captivity to not show he was awake until he was ready.

He was laying on something soft, which was unusual enough that he became fully awake immediately. Above and below him was soft material, and the air smelled fresh and dry, and a streak of sunlight cut across his closed eyelids...

The crash. He had escaped the Galra ship—he couldn't remember how—and barrelled back to Earth. He saw people. He spoke with _humans_. He made it. He was home.

The Garrison medics had found him and looked both awed and terrified by him. Not that he could blame them, yelling about aliens as he was. It wasn't that much of a surprise when they took him to a tent and strapped him down. _What else was new?_

The medi-wing of the Garrison didn't have any exterior walls, though. It was contained in the middle of a lower level, the better to protect the wounded in an attack. How was there fresh air and sunlight?

He had been moved. Rescued? Or stolen?

He allowed a soft sound to escape and heard the rustle of clothing nearby. "Shiro?"

That voice. Shiro opened his eyes and looked into worried grey ones.

"Keith?" he rasped.

A rough gasp, almost a sob, wrenched itself out of Keith before he got himself under control. The familiar mask fell over his face, and Shiro saw that Keith had become harder, sharper, and warier since Shiro had seen him last. Which was when?

"How long?" he asked.

Keith swallowed. "The Garrison lost contact with the Kerberos mission a year ago."

"A year." What a strange amount of time. It was too short for all the terrible things that happened to him, yet it was such a long time for the people on Earth waiting and hoping. "What happened? Where am I?"

"You're at my place. We rescued you."

"Your place?"

Keith grimaced. "It's a long story. But it means you're safe now." His gaze raked over Shiro, skipping from the tattered clothes to the metal arm to the white hair. There weren't many mirrors in captivity, but Shiro knew he looked like shit.

"What happened?" Keith said quietly.

"It's a long story," Shiro said with a ghost of a smile. "Very long. I'll tell you what I know, but it's patchy. What I can remember is...not good." He took a deep breath, and Keith didn't push him. "You said 'we.' Who else is here?"

Keith rolled his eyes, and the last year fell away. He was the same unimpressed teen Shiro knew. "A bunch of Garrison students. They seem decent enough, but..." He trailed off, staring at the closed door. Shiro heard muted voices from the other side.

"I found him." Keith's voice was soft. "My Dom, I-I found him, Shiro. He's out there."

Shiro's smile widened into real joy, and he pushed himself up to lean against the wall. "That's fantastic. I'm so happy for you. What's he like?"

"He's an idiot." Keith turned back to Shiro, all bewildered distress. "All we've done is argue. He's nothing but ego and teasing and competitiveness—" He stopped at Shiro's grin. "What?"

"He can't be all bad. He did go on a crazy rescue mission with you. What's his name? Is he from the Garrison?"

Keith nodded, glancing at the door again. Laughter rose above the voices. "His name's Lance."

Shiro vaguely recalled a bright kid by that name, but couldn't pull up any details. "I can't wait to meet him."

Somehow, it was the wrong thing to say. Keith dropped his gaze into his lap and curled up into himself. "What if we don't work?"

Everyone longed for their bonded. But under the anticipation and the excitement was the dark thought of broken bonds. Bonds that didn't clarify or manifest quite right, or weakened and failed over time. It was rare enough that it was spoken of in boogieman tales, but the thought lurked.

"You'll figure it out," Shiro said, and opened his arms. Before, he wouldn't have hesitated to pull Keith into a hug, back when he was unbonded. Now, Keith was somebody's sub and had to choose for himself what kind of contact he received.

Keith looked up at Shiro through his fringe, then wrapped himself around him. He tensed at the touch of the metal, then buried his face in Shiro's shoulder.

"I'm glad you're home," came his muffled voice.

"Me too, kid."

Shiro held Keith for several long minutes, rubbing his back through shuddering breaths and letting him process. When he pulled back, his eyes were red and wet. "Please tell me you have fresh water here," Shiro said.

Keith hiccoughed and nodded. "Water collector up on the roof. The barrel might even be warm enough for a shower."

"A _shower_." Shiro tipped his head back. Warm water and soap, to finally feel clean and fresh instead of scrubbed and sanitized. _Heaven_. "Dear god, please."

Keith laughed and went to the other door in the room. It was a simple bathroom, similar to the bedroom: spartan and practical.

"There are some towels in there. And I'll get you some clothes. I still have some of my dad's stuff..." He trailed off and busied himself pulling towels and toiletries out.

"Thank you," Shiro said quietly but with feeling.

Keith only nodded. "Come out when you're ready to meet the circus." He ducked out into the living room, and Shiro heard a swell of voices before Keith shut the door.

The shower was better than anything Shiro had ever experienced. Only the thought of using up all of Keith's water stopped him from standing under the spray until the barrel ran dry. He cleaned himself up thoroughly, brushing his teeth twice just for the feel of it and painstakingly drawing a razor over his face and trimming his hair. He looked in the mirror and saw not quite a stranger, but certainly someone who had taken an unexpected turn in life and hadn't rebounded yet.

When he stepped out, he saw a folded pile of clothes on the bed. Shiro didn't think too hard about the man who previously wore them as he pulled them on.

He paused at the door to the living room. He heard Keith's voice speaking low and another, louder voice arguing with him. He smothered his grin before he walked out.

The voices all fell silent. Four sets of eyes landed on him, and he tried to take them in one at a time.

Keith was leaning against the wall next to Shiro, expression guarded as he glanced over Shiro's clothes.

Two boys sat on the decrepit couch across from him. Garrison students for sure. Shiro recognized them from classes. The lean one—Lance, Keith's Dom—stared with wide eyes, and the tall one—Hunk—chewed his lip in worry.

That left—

Only learning to hide his emotions while captive did Shiro smother the gasp that clawed up his throat.

_Matt_. Curled up in a desk chair, like nothing had happened. No, it couldn't be. Same hair and glasses, but the jawline and the nose...

Katie. Katie Holt, here, in a too-big sweater and wide desperate eyes, pleading with Shiro to...what?

"Hi," she said. "We haven't met. I'm Pidge Gunderson."

Oh.

"Right," Shiro said. "Good to meet you all. And thanks for pulling me out of there."

"Anytime," Lance said. "Hunk, Pidge, and I totally had everything under control, until the dropout here blew things to shit. Literally."

Shiro raised an eyebrow at Keith. _Dropout?_ Keith coughed and stepped up to a board covered in graphs and photos.

As they all explained the alien messages and the weird energy spikes, Shiro sat back and listened. When they thought the other wasn't looking, Keith and Lance watched each other. Everyone treated Katie as 'Pidge,' even going so far as to accuse Katie of being her own girlfriend—what a head trip that was. Where one faltered, the others were quick to pick up the slack. Shiro could see they had the makings of a strong bond-family if they wanted one. Shiro could see himself sticking with them.

And sure, what they were talking about was pretty wild. But what were his options? Go back to the Garrison and be quarantined while aliens attacked? Stay here in Keith's shack?

No, it meant something that both Katie and Keith were here. That Keith's bonded was here. That these misfit students with their unappreciated skills had gathered together, drawn by...something.

"Voltron."

They all turned to Shiro, and he blinked. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. "Something I've heard. I don't know if it's a person, or a weapon, or a place, but everyone seems scared of it."

Lance clapped his hands once. "Well, sounds like a good thing to chase recklessly after. Keith, you're top of the class in that department." He swept his hand out in an after-you gesture.

Keith ignored him and looked to Shiro. "What do you think?"

Shiro stood up, feeling the weight of his fatigue and their stares. "Let's go hunting some aliens."

&&&

Things didn't quite get back to normal. The issue of who was piloting the Black Lion was the first major hurdle. In a spaceship full of smart people, Lance couldn't believe no one had thought of it before it happened. Flying with Shiro again was great. It was familiar. It was as it should be.

Except Keith wasn't there.

Lance rolled it in his mind all the next day. Shiro in Black should have had Keith back in Red, and Lance would then go back to Blue. Allura was an incredible asset to the team, and she shouldn't be shoved aside so Lance would have Blue again. _If she'd even have me again_ , he thought with a pang. They couldn't exactly share Lions, either. One Lion, one Paladin. No substitutions.

The sharp corners of the geometry made Lance's head hurt. This was a problem for Hunk or Pidge. Except they were the only ones unaffected by this problem.

He groaned into his pillow as an answer formed that he tried to ignore. But the more he weighed the strengths and weaknesses of each team member, the more the solution came into focus.

Lance should step down.

Shiro was the leader and strategist. Keith had survived the crucible of desperate leadership and grown stronger from it. Allura was sharp and quick and always knew where the rest of the team was. And one of them should be sacrificed for what? For Lance?

The sharpshooter, the distance gunner, the range fighter. He didn't need to be in the thick of battle. He could help just as much behind the battle, outside of a Lion. Yeah, he could do that.

The lump in his throat said otherwise.

The door slid open to show a soft and rumpled Keith, not bothering to knock. He had an expression of annoyance and worry on his face. "What's happening?" he said.

"What? Nothing." Lance sat up in bed. "I'm fine."

Keith levelled a scowl at him. "Don't. I can feel you. The bond is all twisty and green. Like a tornado."

Lance wanted to tell the truth, he did. But it would hurt Keith and in a knee-jerk attempt to prevent that, he said, "Just, you know, thinking about Lotor. He's a different type of enemy than we've faced before."

Keith stepped inside, letting the door close behind him. "Yes," he said slowly. "But what's really bothering you?"

Lance stared at his bonded. Keith had been through so much pain in his life, before and after Voltron. But he had never run away from a problem. He was always facing it head-on—for better or for worse. He was the one who always came to Lance first. He was the one who always listened, even if he didn't always understand.

Lance stared at Keith's collar and felt the weight of the cuff on his own wrist. He nodded once and started speaking.

&&&

Keith sat on the edge of Lance's bed and listened to his Dom break down in front of him. Lance had tried to play it off as factual and logical. Coming from him, it seemed so cut-and-dried. A done deal. Already decided.

It made Keith sick.

"I'm just a third wheel," Lance said. "Or fifth. Or seventh, depending on how you count it. I just think it would be better for everyone if I stayed back."

Keith shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"The team, Keith." A frown pulled Lance's brows down. "I'm talking about helping the team."

"This would _not_ help the team."

"Then what do you suggest?" The frown was growing into a full scowl now. "Who do _you_ think we should kick out to make sure my feelings aren't hurt?"

Keith growled and ran his hand through his hair. Lance's visible irritation was clashing with the deep pain cracking through the bond. Keith could deal with one or the other, but both were making his head hurt. "Don't say things like that."

"That's how it is." Lance stood off the bed and started pacing. "I'm not saying I'm abandoning you guys. I can still be, like, support crew or something."

Keith's head was filled with the idea of not flying with Lance. Losing Shiro had been devastating, but they made it work. They were still a team. Flying without Lance, without his bonded—Keith might as well stab one of his eyes out. "You're not being support crew."

"Then what _can_ I do?" Lance's voice broke, and he whirled towards Keith. "Name one thing I'm actually good at."

"You're—" Keith paused, trying to sort out what would be the best thing to say first.

Lance misconstrued the silence. "See? Even you can't come up with anything. Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all this. I'm sorry you're stuck here with me, that I woke Blue up instead of someone else, that I can't just figure this out on my own—"

"Lance!" Keith scrambled off the bed, then grabbed Lance's wrists and placed them around Keith's throat. Lance stilled immediately. "Focus on this. Breathe."

Lance did as instructed, blinking hard. Tears shone on his eyes, but didn't fall. The leather collar was soft enough to not creak under his hands, just push into Keith's skin. The only sound was their breathing slowly synchronizing.

Keith dropped his forehead to Lance's. "We'll make it work. We're not leaving you behind. I'm not. You belong out there as sure as anyone else. Blue picked you. And you know what?" Lance made a soft, questioning noise. "I would have picked you, too. Eventually," he added at Lance's scoff. "I love you."

"Love you, too," Lance mumbled. He sniffed. "We just can't catch a break, huh?"

"Life would be boring without challenges."

"I don't even remember what it was like to _be_ bored." Lance leaned away. "Thanks. Again."

As Lance dropped his hands, Keith kept a loose grip on his wrists. He wasn't ready to let go yet. "We'll work it out," he said again. He didn't know how, but he believed they would find some solution.

&&&

The solution came a month later.

Lance and Keith were lounging alone in the common room, which Lance should have found suspicious. Keith rarely tolerated Lance at loose ends for long. Something always required clean-up afterwards.

"Lance," Keith started, "you trust me, right?"

"Yeah, obviously." Lance gave him a side-eye. "Why?"

Keith hugged his arms around his body. "I think I figured out the paladin-Lion problem."

Lance stilled, his mouth a grim line. "I'm not going to like this, am I."

"Probably not, but it's the only thing I can think of." He took a deep breath. "I'm going to fight with the Blades of Marmora."

"Oh. Right." Lance nodded, feeling numb. "I mean, that makes sense. You have the blade, and it's your heritage, and you can probably learn so much from them—"

"Lance, you're rambling."

And hyperventilating. Lance pressed a hand to his chest to try to control his breathing, but his body and heart and bond were all screaming, _He's leaving! Your sub is leaving you!_

"I don't—you—"

Keith slid closer on the couch, holding Lance's knees. "I've thought about this a lot, and you have to know that this has nothing to do with you, or the team, or being a paladin, or any of that." He squeezed Lance. "You're right; I want to learn more about the Blades and who they are and how they work. I want to know how my—my mother helped the rebellion. And to do that, I need to be on the ground with them."

Lance sniffed. "Throw yourself into the thick of it."

Keith half-smiled. "Exactly. I don't see it as permanent. More like a summer internship." A long pause as he watched Lance try to keep it together. "I love you."

That did it. Lance stood. "I know. And me too. I just—I have to talk to Shiro." He turned, then spun back. "I'll be back, okay? Be somewhere I can find you. Don't hide in like a supply closet or something. I'm coming back."

Keith smiled for real. "You always do."

Lance nodded, still grim, then left.

As he walked through the halls of the castleship, he held back most of the tumult his head was in from the bond. No need to make Keith felt more guilty over this. Lance took some time to splash cold water on his face and rehearse what he wanted to ask Shiro.

Shiro was in the garage. He had been spending a lot of time there lately, saying that working with his hands helped keep him focused. Lance found him tinkering on one of the hoverbikes, sleeves rolled up and a smear of grease on his nose. He looked both hot and adorable.

"Hey, Shiro," he called. "Can I talk to you about something?"

Shiro wiped his hands on a rag and stood up. "Of course you can. What's on your mind?"

"It's Keith." Lance's heart started pounding again. "He—shit, he wants to fight with the Blades of Marmora instead of Voltron. For a while, at least."

Shiro looked as stunned as Lance felt. "Oh. Okay. Is this about me flying the Black Lion?"

Lance shook his head, then shrugged. "He says it isn't, but with him gone, there's no conflict, so that's clearly part of it. The bigger part is learning about his Galra half better."

Shiro sighed. "That makes sense. Keith always learned best by doing." He gave Lance a long, inscrutable look. "And you want to tell him to stay?"

"No!" Lance said. "I mean, yeah, I want to keep him close by because I love him, and he's my sub, and my best friend. But I don't want to _order_ him to stay."

"He'd listen if you spoke as his Dom, you know." Shiro's voice was flat and bland.

Lance blinked at Shiro, brows pulling together. "I hate doing that." He shook his head sharply. "That's not happening."

Shiro visibly relaxed. "So why did you come to me?"

"I want to know how to prevent the bond from hurting. When Keith and Allura ran away that one time, it hurt both of us until Keith came back. Bonds aren't supposed to stretch unnaturally like that, but—" He looked Shiro in the eye. "But you and Matt parted when you had to, and your bond isn't broken."

"You want to know how to release a bond." Shiro now sounded hollow, a little haunted, and Lance hated that he was bringing this up.

"Yes."

Shiro blew through his teeth. "Okay." He began organizing the tools scattered around. Lance waited.

Once all the tools were cleaned up, Shiro stood, staring at his hands as he scrubbed them thoroughly. "The reason it hurt when Keith left was that it wasn't a choice on both sides. Keith made the decision for you, and it hurt him. And it wouldn't be just for things like leaving. Anything he did that affected you without your consent would hurt him. Abandonment, injury, cheating. It's an evolutionary survival trick."

"I...didn't know about that. I thought it was a proximity thing."

Shiro smiled in a twisted way. "No one likes to talk about it. No one likes to think about someone deliberately harming an unwilling bonded. But it happens."

Lance swallowed. "Bad Doms."

Shiro nodded. "And bad subs, to a lesser extent. Sometimes people just want to hurt others." He put the rag aside. "But think: why doesn't the bond hurt when people are hurting each other in a scene? Blood, knives, needles, even guns can get involved, and yet, nothing."

The light dawned on Lance. "Because it's consensual."

Shiro nodded. "Both people make the choice, and so it doesn't hurt. If both people agree to leave and release a bond, it doesn't hurt." Shiro's eyes cut to the side. "Relatively speaking."

Lance wrapped his arms around himself. "How did you learn about this? It can't have been through trial and error. You'd go mad."

Shiro's eyes crinkled. "Aren't I already? When the Garrison started sending people on space missions, they knew they couldn't be sending civilian bonded as well. Matt and I got lucky with both of us going, but Sam Holt had to leave his Domme behind. We had to...practise. It wasn't fun. But we knew we could do it if we needed to."

"The arena."

Shiro bowed his head. "I knew I had to leave Matt to protect him, and he knew it, too. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but it worked. I know he's still alive because of it." He straightened and fixed Lance with a serious look. "If Keith is joining the Blades, then you have to let each other go. It's the only way either of you will survive this. If there's any hesitation on either side—"

"I know," Lance said. He ran a hand through his hair. "You're right; it'll be the worst thing to have to do. But I'll do it. I can do it. I won't keep him here to be miserable if this is how he believes he can help."

Shiro gave him a small smile. "You're a brave man and a good Dom. Not many would agree so fast."

Lance dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I'm going to miss him so much."

Strong arms wrapped him, and Shiro pulled Lance tight into him. "I know. We all will, and we'll all be there when it gets bad."

Lance leaned into the comfort and warmth of Shiro's broad chest. "Thank you."

&&&

When Keith told them he was leaving, Pidge's heart froze. _Not again_. But Keith wasn't Matt, or Shiro, or Sam. He was a half-human, half-Galra badass, going in with open eyes and a magical sword. He would be fine.

That's what she told herself as they all wrapped him in a group hug on the bridge. They let him go with a wave and a smile to start packing.

Pidge was holding herself when Lance touched her elbow. "Tonight," he said in a low voice, "after the ship goes dark, we're saying goodbye to him properly. Our way."

Pidge's eyes widened, but she nodded in understanding. "Everyone?"

Lance glanced over to where Allura and Coran were talking with Shiro. "I'll be delicate about it, but I think this is too alien for them."

"Too human, you mean," she said with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes. "We've met how many other species, and somehow _we're_ always the weird ones? C'mon." He grew serious again. "Don't feel pressured to come. It's not going to get as wild as some parties I've heard about, but I don't want you overwhelmed."

She pushed at him, laughing. "Okay, Big Daddy Dom. I'll check in with you or Shiro if I need to. Sound good?"

Lance gave a long-suffering sigh, then grabbed her in a headlock. They tussled as he tried to give her a noogie and she tried to nail him in the kidneys. "Not so tough now, are you? Little sub squirt. You could single-handedly save half the universe, but don't worry, your big Dom friends are here to protect you!"

"Only half?" she said, indignant. "Hunk! Tell this idiot that I could save the _whole_ universe by myself, with one hand tied, and blindfolded!"

Hunk watched them wrestle the same way he watched alien slime: morbidly fascinated. "If you were tied and blindfolded, I think you'd be too distracted to save the universe," he said.

"Hey!"

"What about you?" Lance said after twisting away from Pidge's hits. "You're coming tonight, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Hunk said. "Where are we meeting?"

"Training deck."

"Oh god, our gift isn't letting Keith fight us, is it?" Pidge asked.

Lance started to laugh, then got a thoughtful look on his face.

"No," Hunk said with finality.

“Spoilsport.”

&&&

A soft knock on her door jolted Pidge out of her jitters. Despite what she told Lance earlier, she was nervous. She had dithered in her room for hours, wanting every aspect of this to be perfect. At least it was with her bond-family; they would support her, not judge her.

Lance was standing at her door. Like her, he was dressed in plain workout clothing. "Ready?"

She held up a cloth bag. "Ready."

As they walked through the ship, he kept glancing over at her.

"What?" she finally said.

"Have you ever done this before?"

"Going to have to be more specific," she drawled, expecting Lance to hedge around the topic. The others didn't treat her delicately per se, but they did sometimes avoid plain language when talking about the grittier aspects of bonding.

"A scene," he said, surprising her. "An actual scene, not a demo. Any experience?"

Now Pidge was the uncomfortable one. "I caught a few demos, but no. Nothing like this." She looked up at him. "Is that okay?"

"Of course." No judgement in his face. "Anything feels weird, you speak up, okay? Don't hesitate just because we're focusing on Keith. You're not going to ruin anything." He fidgeted as Pidge stared at him. "What?"

"You are a really good Dom."

His ears turned red. "Oh. Well, thanks. Just trying to support my friend, you know?"

They were in front of the training deck. Lance opened the door to darkness, with only one corner illuminated in soft, cool light. Hunk and Shiro were already there.

"Hey, guys," Lance said. He chatted and checked in with them the same as he had to Pidge. She hung back. Lance, Shiro, and Hunk were always teammates first, Doms second. Or switch, in Hunk’s case. But seeing them now—Lance lithe and effortless, Shiro strong and steady, and Hunk mischievous and cunning—took Pidge a second to wrap her head around.

Hunk noticed her awkwardness first. He gestured her over, and she went easily to be tucked in under his arm. This was good. This was safe.

But before he could speak, she said, "If one more person asks if I'm alright, I will punch you in the throat."

Hunk snapped his mouth shut.

Shiro chuckled. "You trust us, we trust you, got it." He turned to Lance. "It's your show. Ready?"

Lance nodded and walked off into the dark. Pidge heard him speaking, but the words were too low to make out. He came back with Keith, who was stripped to the waist, collared, and barefoot.

Lance pointed to a small towel folded on the floor. "Kneel." Keith obeyed without question, keeping his eyes on Lance. It was like the rest of them weren't even there.

Lance then arranged the others in a circle around Keith, with Lance standing in front. "We're here to please our friend and bond-family member, and to help him with his transition to being apart from his bonded." Lance's voice didn't waver, but he did pause to swallow. "Keith, we're going to present you with our gifts. We're going to mark you and restrain you and make you take what we give you without hesitation or consideration. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Keith said.

"Safe word?"

"Teludav."

"And non-verbally?"

"Three snaps."

Lance nodded, then looked to Hunk. "After you, my man."

Hunk slid smoothly into Dom mode. He held Keith's chin and made him face Hunk. He wasn't rough about it, but he moved in a way that brooked no hesitation. Hunk looked Keith over.

"You know, I've had to hear a lot of Lance gushing over you, and I thought he was just being his usual lovestruck, over-dramatic self—"

"Hey!" Lance interrupted.

"But now I can really see it," Hunk continued. "You're so calm, so willing, so trusting. But you're not a pushover, are you?" He pushed his thumb in Keith's mouth, who, rather than sucking or fighting it, held it between his teeth. Waiting. Hunk grinned. "Perfect."

Without removing his hand, Hunk pulled out his gift, a flat, wide strip of leather with a buckle. Pidge bit her lip as she realized it was a muzzle.

Hunk strapped it to Keith face's, testing the fit and feeling for places it might chafe. Pidge watched Lance, who looked hungry. She felt the familiar prickles crawl over her skin.

When Hunk was satisfied, he stepped back. "Well, show the others," he said. Keith shuffled around on his knees to look at each of them in turn. The muzzle was curved to fit over his nose and cup his chin, with air holes punched out at the top of the curve. Keith could breathe, but it wouldn't be easy. Right over his mouth was etched the same Altean knot that was on Keith's collar and Lance's cuff.

"It's beautiful," Pidge said.

Hunk preened under the praise. "Just something I had lying around. When I heard about Lance's idea, I finished it off."

Keith worked his jaw, testing how much give the muzzle allowed. Since it was one of Hunk's, the answer was, very little.

"Shiro?" Lance's voice croaked. "You ready?"

Shiro nodded and stepped up to Keith, who watched him with wide eyes. Shiro buried his fingers in Keith's hair and pushed it back with enough force to make Keith look up at him.

"I know we never got to demo together back home," Shiro said. "It would have become...complicated. But I'm glad I can share this with you now." He smiled. "I always knew you'd make a Dom very happy one day. And now, with that Dom's express permission, I'm going to show you a trick or two."

Keith was trembling as Shiro brought forward a heavy loop of rope. He directed Keith to cross his arms over his chest and slowly, systematically, began to tie Keith up. Loop after loop, knot after knot; it was mesmerizing. The end result looked like a mandala spread across Keith's chest and shoulders.

Eyes half-closed, Keith swayed in place like a cobra in front of a snake charmer. Shiro kissed his hair and murmured, "Stay grounded, kid," before stepping back to his place.

And then all their eyes were on Pidge. Her stomach twisted up with her heart, and she almost bowed out. She didn't have the confidence or self-assurance all these Doms had. She was a sub and an inexperienced one at that. What could she offer that wouldn't mess everything up?

A muffled noise pulled her back to the present. Keith was now facing her, bound and gagged and on his knees, the picture-perfect sub. He was trying to say her name behind the leather. When he saw he had her attention, he bowed his head in submission.

Fuck, was _this_ the power trip Doms felt in a scene? It must be what being high must feel like. Cocaine and king, all rolled into one.

Mouth dry, Pidge revealed her gift. It was a stubby silver cylinder with a rubber handhold at one end.

"A vibrator?" Hunk asked.

"A wand," Pidge said. She swallowed. "I made it myself." She let it drift over Keith's shoulder, and he jerked in surprise at the shock.

"Hell yes," Lance breathed. "Why didn't I think of that?"

The panic gripping Pidge's spine and stomach eased. She didn't need grandiose words or assertive touches. She only needed what she always used to solve problems: her tools.

She started talking. Babbled, really, as she drew the wand over Keith's skin and found the sensitive spots on his ribs and across his stomach. She described finding the parts for the wand, how she built it, the different prototypes she had. She told Keith what muscle groups she was targeting and the effect the electricity had on them. Without realizing it, she had knelt in front of Keith and he was now nuzzled into the crook of her neck, panting softly.

"But I like doing my feet best," Pidge said, ignoring Keith's whine.

Once each toe had been shocked—twice—Pidge lifted her head to the others. Keith was leaning heavily on her, a panting mess. "Well?" she said. "How'd I do?"

Lance burst out a blinding grin, echoed to different degrees by Hunk and Shiro. "You did fantastically." He came down and wrapped an arm around her and Keith both, which turned into a bizarre wrestling-slash-cuddling fight. Soon, the others joined, and both subs were wrapped up in a tangle of arms and chests and backs. A cocoon of Doms. Pidge laughed, leaning back against Hunk. "I love you guys."

A chorus of 'I love you, too' answered her, along with a head butt from Keith, which meant the same thing.

"We're not finished yet," Lance said. He disentangled himself from the puppy pile of intergalactic warriors and rummaged in his bag. With a triumphant "Aha!" he pulled out four candles, coloured green, yellow, black, and blue. "Anyone want to get messy?"

Afterwards, after cleaning up and picking wax out of her track pants, after untying Keith and having another goofy cuddle puddle as aftercare, after finally returning to her own room, Pidge went to sleep feeling more settled than she had in a long, long time.

&&&

Seeing Keith leave for the Blades was hard, but Shiro told himself it was Keith's choice. And he had the rest of his bond-family to help. Shiro was old enough to know that those ties could be just as important as the pair-bond. Something to be cultivated and nurtured instead of fought against.

So different was the Keith leaving now than the Keith Shiro had last seen on Earth. That Keith would never have considered having anyone in his bond-family.

Especially Shiro's bonded.

The first few weeks after he found Matt, Shiro became a fixture at the Holt house. When he wasn't giving recruitment talks or 'rescuing orphans,' as Matt once put it, Shiro was visiting them. He would help Sam in the garage, or Colleen in the kitchen, or Pidge with her homework. Well, he tried to help. He readily admitted that her particle physics homework went over his head.

And when Matt would get too wound up with work at the Garrison, his parents would kick him out to have a date with Shiro. Matt would go home the next morning upbeat and whistling.

He remembered, too, when he told Keith why he had been spending less time at the Garrison. They were in Keith's dorm room—Shiro pulled some strings to get him a single—with Keith standing stiff by the desk and Shiro trying to relax in the uncomfortable plastic chair. The room was as spartan as when Keith moved in, and Shiro inwardly sighed at Keith's hesitancy to lay down roots.

It was impossible to miss the flash of hurt on the sixteen-year-old's face before Keith smoothed it over. Shiro had tried not to lead the kid on, but he knew that Keith had a poorly hidden hope that Shiro would be his Dom. It happened. Keith wasn't the only sub to hang their hopes on the first non-asshole Dom they met.

It didn't help that while Keith desperately wanted to leave the Garrison, he felt compelled to stay. Having heard that same compulsion described by Matt, Shiro had a good idea of why Keith stuck around.

"Congratulations," Keith said, trying and failing to not sound mulish. "I'm really happy for you."

"Keith, this won't change things between us. I'll still be here for you with whatever you need." Shiro wanted to draw Keith in close, but recognized the need for distance. "I'll introduce you to Matt. I think you'll like him. He's nearly as blunt as you are."

"Sounds amazing," Keith said from under his fringe.

"Keith," Shiro said, then took a deep breath. He tried to remember the first time a crush bonded with someone who wasn't him. "I didn't do this to hurt you. You know I didn't choose this. It's just...biology."

A huff of air blew back Keith's hair. "I know that, I do. I just—" He stopped, and Shiro saw the war on his face between admitting why he was hurting and playing it off like it was nothing.

Shiro took a risk and saved Keith the decision. Leaning close, he said quietly, "You'll find yours soon, I promise. And they're going to be perfect for you."

Keith's face twisted with emotion, then he slipped it all under his mask once again.

Shiro leaned back and fiddled with some papers on the desk to give Keith some space. "I want you to meet him. You don't have to right now if you don't want to, but you'll run into him eventually. It might be better if you were expecting it rather than have it be a surprise."

A pause, then Keith nodded stiffly. "Okay."

The first meeting could have gone better, but it wasn't a disaster. Matt met the two of them in a park near the Garrison, somewhere open and neutral. Shiro could feel Matt trying to soothe his nerves over the bond. He was feeling as nervous as he did meeting the Holts for the first time. He guessed because this was the same sort of thing; he met Matt's family, now Matt was meeting his.

"Hey, Shiro," Matt said, being careful not to touch Shiro more than necessary. A hand on his shoulder, that was all. "You must be Keith."

"And you're his sub," Keith said. His gaze lit on Matt's collar, an intricate loop of silver chain connected with a solid ring.

Matt touched the ring. "That I am. I'm Matt Holt. Nice to meet you." And he held out his hand.

Keith blinked at it. In traditional crowds, subs weren't usually so...forward. After staring at it a moment too long, Keith finally shook it.

Shiro leaned back against the bench and spread his arms across the back. "What, you think just because I got bonded, I'd forget everything I said about treating a sub like a person?" He grinned at Keith's startled look.

"No, I didn't—I'm not saying—you're not—" He gestured between Shiro and Matt until he shrugged into himself and said, "Whatever."

"Nah, he's just as much of a dork now as he was before we bonded," Matt put in. He lowered his voice and leaned in toward Keith. "I bet he came off as all tall, dark, and handsome, and then the first time you talked to him, you realized he was secretly an old man hiding in a young guy's body. I know, I felt the same way."

Keith took a measure of Matt, deciding if he was being mocked or not, then replied, "The first time I met Shiro, I stole his car."

Matt lit up in full-blown delight. His joy bubbled over the bond like sparkling water, and Shiro did nothing to quell the laughter from Matt. "Holy shit," he said when he caught his breath. "You have to tell me _everything_."

"I regret having you two meet," Shiro muttered.

"No, you don't." Matt waved him off, then sat on Keith's other side, bracketing him between the two adults. "Have you seen him around baby animals? It's ridiculous."

Miracle of miracles, Keith smiled, although he tried to hide it. "I thought he was going to adopt an entire family of ducklings one time."

" _Right?_ "

With Keith's attention now all on Matt, Shiro allowed himself to relax and observe. Matt had an amazing ability to put people at ease. Shiro sat watching them and thought he had found people he could call family again. Matt, Keith, the Holts—they were all good people, and Shiro could see the years stretching out ahead with them.

A week later, Sam Holt came to him asking if he had ever heard of the moon Kerberos.

&&&

The morning of the launch, Pidge wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel. Pride was a given; of course she was proud of her family. Worry, too, was natural; it was a year-long mission with limited contact back home. But she didn't think this twisting fear in her gut was right. Half a dozen times she tried to speak to her dad, to tell him she had a bad feeling about this. But what was the point of that? What did a fourteen-year-old know that scientists and engineers with decades of experience didn't?

She stayed silent and nearly crushed Matt's glasses when he handed them to her. Too much of a final goodbye.

She hugged him hard. "Look after yourself," she said. "Don't get into anything crazy."

He laughed. "It's a frozen moon, Pidge. What could I possibly get into? A glacier rave with Dad and Shiro?"

She peered over his shoulder at Shiro, some distance away talking to a skinny, dark-haired teenager. "Just be careful."

He nodded, taking Pidge seriously as he rarely did. "I promise."

"And look after Shiro."

"Sure thing." He ruffled her hair as someone in uniform called from the warehouse. "Time to go. You look after Mum, alright?"

She nodded. Speaking had become difficult.

Matt walked back to Shiro, joined by Sam. A final wave, and they walked through a door to the launch site.

Pidge stood with her mother, watching the three most important men in her life walk away.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my upcoming projects at [trello](https://trello.com/b/RbCABI7q/fic-writing) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/alex_caligari)!


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